After attending a garage sale with his mother, Trevor returned home, arms full with an assortment of random vintage items. Among the eclectic haul were dusty old trinkets, faded photographs, and a weathered checkerboard that caught his eye. He figured he could perhaps resell some of these finds and make a couple quick bucks.

Trevor took the checkerboard to his bedroom, a space filled with posters of his favorite bands and scattered notebooks filled with sketches. He thought the board had character, even if it was a bit worn. But when he turned back after rummaging through a box of other items he grabbed, he noticed something unsettling. the checker pieces were mysteriously arranged, perfectly set up for a game.

"That's odd," he whispered to himself, a shiver of unease creeping up his spine.

His heart raced as he leaned in closer, squinting at the board. In a surreal moment, he watched in disbelief as one of the black pawns began to slide forward on its own, gesturing him to play.

“Holy shit—” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. Instinctively, he replaced his trepidation with curiosity and cautiously sat down before the board, feeling both excited and apprehensive. Gathering his nerve, he reached out and moved one of the white pawns forward, feeling the smooth texture under his fingertips. Almost instantly, the game responded: another black pawn shifted, inching forward as if drawn by an invisible string.

on your side, you smiled softly as the young boy your age started to engage in the game. you didn't expect him to actually be interested at all. maybe you should show yourself...?